


Proposal

by adjectivebear (HealerAriel)



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Ficlet, Fluff, in before S8 blows everything to hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-29 20:15:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18301202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HealerAriel/pseuds/adjectivebear
Summary: Gendry has a big decision to make. Arya can help with that.





	Proposal

The song of hammer upon Valyrian steel rings through the forge of Winterfell, steady and meditative.

And Gendry has so very much to meditate on.

Can he really do what Jon and Daenerys ask of him?

Oh, he can arm the forces of the living with fine blades and fight the army of the dead, aye. But after that? If they win–and win they must–can he rule as lord of Storm’s End?

He was not born for this. He was not trained for it. Noble blood he may have, but at the end of the day he’s still a bastard from Flea Bottom. Even if he were to accept the title, would the holdfast accept  _him_? Would the nobility? And would he want them to?

He’s only met a handful of high-borns who were worth a damn. Could he really stomach being expected to spend the rest of his days making nice with the ones who aren’t?

He sighs heavily, pounding the steel as though the answers he seeks are hidden within, waiting to be forged into being.

“You’d be good at it, you know.”

The voice should startle him, but it doesn’t. Gendry’s well past expecting Arya to make any sound when she moves.

“You’d be good for Storm’s End,” she continues. “For Westeros. For the people.”

Gendry shakes his head. “You’re only saying that because–”

“Because it’s  _true_ ,” Arya says firmly. “Who better to be lord of a holdfast than someone who truly understands the smallfolk? Someone who cares about them?”

Gendry sighs again, depositing the cooling steel back into the flames. “I don’t know the first thing about running a holdfast.”

A smile tugs at Arya’s dainty lips. “Of course you don’t  _yet_ , stupid. That’s why you’re going to marry me.”

_Did she just–?_

Yes. Yes she did.

“I think Jon might have an opinion about that,” he says evenly, trying to temper the giddiness rising in his chest.

Arya’s smile brightens. “Jon thinks it’s a brilliant idea.”

Gendry finds himself losing the battle against his own smile. “Am I to understand that m’lady’s asked the king for my hand in marriage?”

“M’lord was taking his sweet time getting around to it,” Arya says.

_M’lord_. Gendry frowns. “I still don’t know if I can be a proper lord.”

Arya shrugs. “Marry me anyway.”

Now  _that_ Gendry knows he can do.

He cups her lovely face in his hands and kisses her softly, his heart fit to burst with joy. “As m’lady commands.”


End file.
